


You're Goals, Baby

by embarrassing_myself



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Begging, Drunk Sex, M/M, Porn, Porn Watching, This is really trashy, Underage Drinking, mentions of God - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 05:44:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12149862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embarrassing_myself/pseuds/embarrassing_myself
Summary: Patrick Stump killed the sex game. No, killed is an understatement. He murdered it in cold blood, he destroyed it, he annihilated it and he ruined sex for Pete indefinitely.





	You're Goals, Baby

To put it simply, very simply, Patrick Stump killed the sex game. No, killed is an understatement. He murdered it in cold blood, he destroyed it, he annihilated it. God damn, Patrick slayed it like it was a dragon.

 

Pete knew this for a fact. It wasn’t just an assumption, it was a scientific fact. Another fact was that Patrick had ruined sex for him. Pete hated to admit it but sex might have possibly been ruined for life. All thanks to Patrick fucking Stump.

 

It all started two months ago after the release of their second studio album. Pete knew that it would be good, he had no idea that the reaction would be that good. He hadn’t anticipated all the radio play or all the sudden publicity that came with it. He wasn’t complaining though, no far from it. He was celebrating. He thought they had been on the cusp of something huge and he was totally right.

 

Pete had tried to keep his self doubts and fears hidden from his band, his family, friends, and everyone in between. Instead he played confident and sure for all to see, especially for Patrick, and when From Under the Cork Tree wasn’t a flop, they went all out.

 

Chris was the one who threw them the party, Pete liked to think of it as the ‘last small time party’ they ever had. Of course all their friends were there, and of course friends of friends were there too. Not everyone in the crowded house knew who they were, some people had just showed up for the free booze. But there were a good deal of people there who could say ‘hey I bought your album’ and that meant the world to all four of them.

 

Patrick wasn’t even old enough to drink yet, he was still a ways from twenty one. But there he was, drunk and dizzy and giggling in Pete’s ear. The older boy laughed in return as he struggled to keep Patrick in an upright position. Pete had always loved drunk Patrick. He was funny and sweeter than usual, somehow the blond had always managed to find Pete and cling to him. All warm and pliant against Pete, how could he not love Patrick's intoxication?

 

“Dude, he’s wasted. Like bad,” Joe laughed but Pete could hear the concern in his voice and he could see the way his eyes furrowed some. “I think we should probably cut him off,” Joe said before taking a sip of his drink and glancing back to Pete.

 

“Let him party, man. He’s fine, I got him,” Pete insisted, as he tried to straighten the boy in his side up some. “Tell Joe you’re fine, Trick,” Pete said with a grin.

 

Patrick seemed to understand what Pete wanted from him, or at least he knew he was meant to be saying something. He needed to use his voice for something other than giggling and laughing. The blonde took a moment to clear his throat before trying to regain some of his balance. Patrick looked just past Joe and opened his mouth. “Turn off the lights and turn off the shyness, all of our moves make up for the silence!”

 

“Patrick no, you’re not meant to sing!” Pete said around another laugh. “That’s a great song choice though Lunchbox, I love it.” He pulled Patrick in even closer and beamed at him. How could Joe not love Patrick like that?

 

“Pete, he’s fucked up. It’s cute and all but I seriously think he’s had enough. He’s well past the ‘I’m about to make some bad decisions’ level of drunk. Why don’t you take him upstairs to lay down for a bit?” Joe suggested and Pete fought the urge to huff and roll his eyes. It was meant to be a celebration, a reward for doing well. Everyone was expected to be so drunk they made bad decision.

 

“Joe, he doesn’t even want to go upstairs. I won’t let him drink anymore but that doesn’t mean he needs to lay down,” Pete complained, not letting his grip on Patrick’s waist slip any. It wouldn’t help prove his point if Patrick ended up on the floor. “What are you his mom?”

 

Suddenly though, Patrick’s lips were pressed up against his ear, his hot breath was ghosting over the shell. “Take me upstairs Pete?” The younger boy asked before nuzzling lightly at Pete’s face.

 

Without giving it another thought, Pete found himself mumbling, “Yeah, alright. I’ll take him upstairs.” There was a dark little part of him that wanted to find out where that sentence would take him. He knew enough to know when somebody wanted him, or wanted to be wanted by him. There was a good chance it didn’t mean anything but there was still the possibility that it might mean something.

 

Pete knew Patrick in every sense. Ever since he showed up on that sixteen year old’s doorstep, Pete had been striving to know everything there was to know about the boy with the golden voice. He knew what excited Patrick, what would piss him off, he knew all his deepest darkest fears, and his most secret aspirations. Nobody knew Patrick Stump like Pete did.

 

Yet there was a part of Patrick that Pete knew nothing about and for the first time the older boy realized how much that bothered him. Pete knew the sounds Patrick made when he was annoyed but he didn’t know the sounds he made when he was turned on. He knew the look Patrick would give him when he wanted to say something and didn’t know how, but Pete didn’t know the looks Patrick would give him while he was running his hands over his body.

 

“Come on Lunchbox, let’s get you upstairs,” Pete whispered back while Joe gave him a look of approval. Oh Joe, poor naive Joe. If only he knew how fucked up Pete truly was. Pete hadn’t had enough alcohol to forget the difference between right and wrong but he’d certainly had enough to not care.

 

It turned out dragging Patrick up the stairs wasn’t as easy as Pete had assumed. It should have served as reminded that he’d be taking advantage of the other. But Patrick was leaning so far into him and his lips would brush against Pete’s neck in the most delicious kind of way. And Pete wanted to point out, that if anyone had ever seen that boy’s lips, well they might just lose a bit of self control too.

 

“Who put those stairs in?” Patrick mumbled when they finally reached the top. He pouted so perfectly at Pete that it made the older boy question why he hadn’t thought of this before. “Have them removed.”

 

“It’s alright, Babe. We made it up didn’t we?” Pete mumbled back softly as he tested the new pet name out. He liked the way it sounded and he loved the way it made Patrick look at him. His blue eyes widened just a bit before he broke out into another smile.

 

“Mhm, we did,” Patrick giggled before nodding his head. God he really was drunk, a little sloppy and a lot of clingy. Pete couldn’t decide if it was because Patrick wanted to be all over him, or it was because he’d probably end up on his ass if he didn’t. Maybe a bit of both.

 

“Come on, there's a spare bedroom down the hall,” Pete laughed lowly while his eyes raked down Patrick’s figure. His hips were fuller than most guys’. And Jesus Christ those thighs, they were to die for. Pete couldn’t help but be thankful that Patrick had picked jeans that were a little tighter than he usually wore. And Patrick’s ass, Pete didn’t even know where to start. Round and plump, almost daring Pete to reach out and touch.

 

“Who’s bedroom?” Patrick asked, his lip jutted out stubbornly. It was so typically Patrick. Like he was going to be picky about whose bed he drunkenly got into. Did it matter as long as he was with Pete?

 

“It’s just a spare,” Pete hummed as he pulled Patrick through the bedroom door, closing it and locking it behind them. The room itself was fairly messy, mainly it was only used as storage. There were guitars leaned up against the wall and some broken amps shoved in the corner. But the bed was nicely made up, pillows, sheets, and a comforter. It proved that nobody had been sleeping in it. Pete would work with that.

 

“Who’s though,” Patrick slurred before Pete pushed him down onto the bed. His lips were red and slightly parted and his hair was mussed from the struggle to get upstairs.

 

“Babe it’s Chris’ house, you’ve been here before,” Pete hushed, crawling into bed afterwards. “You’re drunk, huh?” He asked teasingly.

 

“A little bit, I only had two drinks I swear,” Patrick said as he batted his eyelashes at Pete. Oh what a little liar drunk Patrick was. The kid had been drinking since he was sixteen and if Pete knew Patrick, and he did so well, he knew that it took more than two drinks to get him that kind of wasted..

 

“Don’t lie, Trick,” Pete grinned before pushing Patrick further into the mattress. It was a bad idea, Pete knew it was. And even though he was smiling and teasing, he wondered if perhaps Patrick pushing him away would be for the best. He needed to think about what this could do to the band, especially after one of their songs had managed to land number 1 on the charts. Or his relationship with Patrick, Pete needed to think about that. The kid was his best friend, the person he’d die for, the person he’d decided to live for, his person period. For the love of God push Pete away.

 

Of course the blond has to go and do the opposite. “Pete,” he whispered before he grabbed onto the older boy and pulled him flush against him. “I want you…” Patrick trailed off.

 

“What do you want, hmm?” Pete asked lowly before he moved to press his lips against Patrick’s skin. Was it normal for a nineteen year old to smell that good? It wasn’t overly sweet like a girl and it wasn’t sweaty and musky like a guy. But it was a soft scent, lavender laundry soap and maybe apple shampoo? So familiar and different all at once. Pete instantly loved it.

 

“I-I want you...can I?” Patrick asked, his eyes unfocused but staring up at Pete in the dim lighting. His glasses were slipping down his nose and the hat he’d picked out was slowly starting to fall off. This was such a strange kind of beautiful, one Pete hadn’t ever pondered before. It made him nervous, like waiting for the drop off in the ocean.

 

“Tell me what you want?” Pete mumbled against warm pale skin. He had started to suck and nip, purposely trying to leave a mark on that blemish free neck. “Tell me exactly what you want, Trick.”

 

“Can I blow you?” Patrick asked before pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth and chewing gently. Pete wondered if he even knew how good that looked.

 

‘Oh hell yes,’ Pete thought to himself. “You can but I want you out of those clothes first.” It was such a bad idea, such a terrible idea. But he wasn’t going to back out, he couldn’t. He was already in over his head.

 

Patrick looked hesitant for a moment, even drunk he didn’t want to feel so exposed. Pete knew he’d always felt like that to an extent, Patrick, in a sense, was always looking for a way to hide himself. But Pete was trying to discover him, he was trying to learn those hidden parts of Patrick that'd never been available to him before.

 

Yeah, he’d seen Patrick without his shirt on before. He’d seen him wander around the apartment in nothing but a pair of boxers before. But he’d never once seen Patrick 100% undressed. Suddenly, that became one of Pete’s life goals. Pete had never realized how important seeing Patrick naked was for him and his existence.

 

“Hey, come on, it’s okay. It’s just me Trick. You don’t have to be shy,” Pete said softly, he hated the hesitation in Patrick's eyes. They were always open with each other. Pete didn’t think he could be any more open and exposed than he was with Patrick. He wanted to see Patrick like that, not metaphorically but literally.

 

Pete watched as the fear started to melt from the others expression. “Yeah, okay,” Patrick mumbled with a short nod. “For you.”

 

‘Yes, God yes,’ Pete thought to himself once again. He was about to get everything he wanted in the form of Patrick clothesless.

 

He helped the blonde sit up before slowly starting to work on his ridiculous number of lawyers. He couldn’t understand how Patrick could manage with a long sleeve shirt, a short sleeve shirt, and a hoodie thrown over all of it. It was a bit much, even for the cold weather. But the important thing was, was that it was all coming off.

 

“Here uh...no just let me-I’ve got it…” Pete mumbled, stumbling over words as he struggled with Patrick’s clothes. First they got off the hoodie, then the T-shirt which was easier, but Patrick seemed to squirm some when it came to the long sleeved shirt.

 

Eventually, after way too long, Patrick’s top half was completely on display. Not just on show but on show specifically for Pete and Pete alone. He didn’t knew that little fact could feel so good.

 

Soft pale skin with freckles here and there, pink taunt nipples, a light flush from the alcohol and excitement against his neck and chest, and the yellowish bruise Patrick had gotten from bumping into the door frame.

 

“Now you,” Patrick said, eying Pete with unspoken determination. “M’not gonna be the only one with clothes on,” Patrick mumbled with a frown. Of course not, no that just wouldn’t do.

 

Pete wasted no time in pulling his single shirt off and tossing it to the floor with Patrick’s. “Better?” He asked with a grin. Pete had no shame in his game, he didn’t mind Patrick seeing him naked. He was fairly sure the other had seen him fully naked at one point anyway. There wasn’t that much left to hide, except maybe the growing hard on. He sort of wanted Patrick to see that though.

 

Patrick reached out and ran a single finger down Pete’s bicep and sighed softly. He traced the patterns that had been permanently etched into skin with ink. Pete could feel his breathing hitch as it started to become shallow. It was just a fingertip but it sent shock waves down his skin.

 

“Much better,” Patrick hummed in approval, finally smiling back at the older male.

 

Pete couldn’t take it anymore, he had to kiss those lips, he needed to taste them. Without a word of warning, he pushed the blond back down against the mattress once more so that he could lean over him and press their mouths together in a fevered kiss.

 

At first Patrick had made a startled sound, his eyes widening again but a second later he got with the picture and parted his lips for Pete. And oh fuck, what in the hell was all that about?

 

Sweet but slightly bitter all in one go. Pete could taste the cheap vodka somewhere in the kiss but there was something cherry flavored there as well. Like drugstore Chapstick or a chaser from earlier. How could that cheap vodka and cherry flavor go so well together? How could he taste something that was so Patrick and nothing but as well? They were so full and soft and then they were moving slowly against Pete’s lips in return.

 

He felt himself moan before slipping his tongue past those perfect lips. He wanted to know everything about Patrick’s mouth. Everything.

 

Already though Pete could feel his dick twitch in his jeans. Yeah, he would be happy just making out with the younger boy, he could do it for hours if he had the chance. However, Pete really, really, wanted Patrick’s mouth somewhere else. So bad it was a tad painful. After a couple minutes he pulled away and pressed his mouth to the skin of Patrick’s collar bone.

 

“I want your mouth, I want it sucking me off,” Pete groaned. Of all the things he’d ever said to Patrick, some dark, some morbid, some completely insane, he’d never said anything so filthy before. But Patrick sounded like he enjoyed that idea judging by the strangled sound he made.

 

All the blond could do was nod in return. That would be Pete’s green light and he would remember that moment on his deathbed.

 

He forced himself to pull away again, only so that he could shove his jeans and boxers off all the way. Then he went back to work on Patrick’s clothes. He didn’t really need to be naked to give a blow job. But if Pete could get past second and third base, he should aim to hit a mother fucking home run.

 

“Get up baby, I want you on the floor on your knees,” Pete said lowly, he was already stroking himself while he waited for Patrick to comply. And when Patrick scrambled off the bed and dropped to his knees in front of Pete? He knew he’d never seen anything hotter. Pete moaned deeply again before he got up as well. He held his cock in his hand and when Patrick was close enough, he nudged the tip against the other’s lips.

 

Then Patrick opened up for him, letting Pete slowly fuck his mouth. He had his hands in soft strawberry hair, gently guiding Patrick’s head back and forth. The younger boy’s lips were stretched around him and his eyes were staring up at Pete. And there was this hot wet suction that Pete almost died from.

 

“Fuck, Trick, what the fuck?” He groaned, watching his cock slip further and further between Patrick’s lips. It was too good, it was too fucking good. Pete knew that he’d never gotten head like that before. And he’d gotten plenty of head in his whole twenty four years of life. But Patrick’s mouth! It was hot and he was sort of drooling a bit, but fuck if Pete didn’t kind of like that.

 

He was running his tongue along the head when he could and was desperately trying to fit as much of Pete into his mouth as possible.

 

Dark lashes fluttered at Pete before Patrick started to hum. Pete couldn’t stop himself from groaning and gasping. He knew he shouldn’t but Pete had slowly started to thrust his hips some, needing more. He wanted Patrick to take all of his cock.

 

He was dangerously close already and he was tugging a little less than gently at Patrick’s hair. He wouldn’t get that home run if he didn’t change things up a bit. Pete usually didn’t have much of a problem with getting his way in the bedroom, but he didn’t know if Patrick would go for it.

 

“Baby,” Pete moaned. “Trick, fuck, you gotta let me fuck you, can I? Would you let me?” It was so hard to form a full sentence and Pete had been surprised that he’d managed. “Trick you have no idea how much I love this, but I wanna be inside you so bad.”

 

Patrick whined softly before pulling off Pete with a filthy wet pop. “Please, Pete? Please fuck me?” Patrick asked softly, like he hadn’t just heard Pete asking if he could. “Please, I need you.”

 

Oh God, begging was one of Pete’s biggest turn ons. And to hear Patrick’s perfect voice begging like that, whining and sniffling for Pete to fuck him, pleading. It sounded so pretty coming from him. Nobody could beg as sweetly as Patrick just had.

 

“Fuck yeah baby, get back on the bed,” Pete instructed before he helped pull Patrick off the floor. He briefly wondered if maybe Patrick would have some kind of rug burn on his knees, it was carpet after all. Pete could only imagine how good that would look. Swollen lips, raw knees, and pitiful pleas. Pete closed his eyes and groaned just at the thought.

 

He didn’t have much time to fantasize though, not when he had Patrick right in front of him. The exact fucking picture, red knees and everything.

 

“D-do you know how to do this?” Patrick asked when Pete crawled up onto the mattress with him. He looked genuinely nervous and Pete couldn’t spare him the curious look. Patrick looked away from him, his face turning red.

 

“Yeah, do you not?” Pete whispered, pushing Patrick down onto his back and climbing over him before he returned to pressing his lips against whatever skin he could find.

 

“I uh, well I mean sort of? I know how it’s done, I’ve just never...not myself. I’ve done other things but not this,” Patrick said, swallowing roughly when Pete nipped at his shoulder.

 

So he was a virgin then? Pete knew he’d been blessed, ask and you shall receive. He didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky, he was certain he didn’t deserve all these riches. But there they were, falling right into his lap. He felt like he should say a quick thank you to God and promise that he’d go to at least one church service that year.

 

‘Thank you for allowing me to fuck this virgin tonight, you really are answering my prayers.’ Nope, that didn’t sound right. ‘Patrick Stump begging for my dick has been the best experience of my life, thank you Jesus.’ Maybe not that either.

 

So praying wasn’t Pete’s area of expertise. Who cared? Patrick was moaning and writhing under him, arching up into Pete just right. He had more pressing matters to deal with.

 

“Do you still want to? It’s your first time, I would understand if you didn’t want to,” Pete mumbled, leaning back in to press his lips to Patrick’s. All praying aside, losing your virginity was still a sensitive matter.

 

“No please! D-don’t do that to me, I want it, I want it so bad Pete please, I need you, do anything for you,” Patrick said, his eyes widening some.

 

That should have been the part when Pete’s guilt kicked in full force. Patrick was still too drunk to make good decisions, he couldn’t make the choices sober Patrick could.   
And while Pete wasn’t sober enough, he’s not at Patrick’s level of intoxication.

 

But the strawberry blond was naked and Pete was naked and lapping at a pretty pink nipple while Patrick arched off the mattress, he was trying to get as close to Pete as possible. Pete almost couldn’t control himself, it was taking every inch of willpower not to take what he wanted. Patrick had already given him the green light after all.

 

However, it was Patrick. Pete would never hurt him, no matter how hot he looked or how hard Pete was, no matter how much lustful want was between them. He’d been infatuated with the kid since he first met him. He had adored Patrick since the moment he opened his front door for Pete. The way he stared with big round eyes and the way his baby face held such uncertainty.

 

Pete knew there were deep feelings. They were feelings he couldn't let himself explore and at the moment, he was playing with fire and teetering on the cliff of no return. Pete was somewhat okay with falling off that big metaphorical cliff. Kissing Patrick and touching him and tasting him was already like falling. It was like a cheerful suicide.

 

Yeah, okay. Pete was feeling a bit guilty, but not enough to stop. He was going to have something Patrick could only give away once and to only one person. Pete might be achingly hard and desperate to be inside the other, but he would cherish that moment forever, he would forever be grateful

 

“Have you ever fingered yourself?” Pete asked, pulling away just enough to look properly at Patrick. The boy whined some, reaching for Pete in an attempt to pull him back down. But he would be there soon enough. “Shh, we’ll get there,” Pete crooned softly.

 

“A few times, I um, I know how it’s meant to work. I know you have to stretch, you can’t just start fucking. But Pete I’m so hard, please I can’t go slow right. Please? Just fuck me?” Patrick moaned before he threw his head back against the pillows.

 

“Hang on Baby, it’s gonna hurt if we rush. We’ve got time,” Pete whispered. It seemed like they actually did have all night. Downstairs, the party was still in full swing. Pete could hear the music clearly, he could hear the laughter and sounds of something breaking every so often, glass shattering, Chris yelling, and somebody laughing even louder. And they had ‘party rules’ on their side. First come first fuck. Pete had locked the door so technically he’d ‘called dibs’ on the room until whenever.

 

It was their party god damn it, he could fuck Patrick in the upstairs bedroom all night if he wanted and he didn’t care how anyone felt about it.

 

But then Pete remembered something fairly important in the whole process. “Fuck, Trick, I don’t have any lube,” he hissed and the sound Patrick made was slightly devastating. “We’ll improves,” Pete decided quickly, he got up and started to rummage around the room. And bingo, there was some thick hand lotion in one of the desk drawers. He imagined it had been used for exactly what he thought somebody had been using it for.

 

“That’ll work, it’s fine, come on Pete. Aren’t you meant to be some kind of sex God? Some kind of punk rock fuck king?” Patrick huffed, he was starting to get impatient. That, him getting irritated, was just as hot, Pete thought. Sexy, annoyed, and ready for more. Pete loved it when Patrick got bratty with him, only so that he might have the chance to put him in his place.

 

“I am a sex God,” Pete replied, climbing back onto the bed with Patrick. “But I have to ask, are you sure you’re okay with lotion in your ass,” Pete asked and once again Patrick just batted his eyes and gave Pete a sweet smile before nodding.

 

“Alright, if it’s good enough for you, it’s plenty good enough for me,” Pete said with a grin. Then he was between Patrick’s legs, a hand on each knee as he spread his -too-good-to-be-real thighs apart until Patrick was open and on display. He looked up and he could see the deep flush on Patrick’s face, this time he knew it wasn’t the alcohol. Pete smirked before eyeing Patrick from top to bottom. He was seeing parts of Patrick, Patrick probably hadn’t even seen.

 

And Fuck if it wasn’t hot. It was the best thing Pete had ever laid his eyes on. Hard leaking dick, puckered pink little hole, gasping swallown lips. Why had Pete never attempted this before? Oh, right maybe because this could very well end their relationship. But Pete wouldn’t let it, not if it came down to it.

 

So in theory, he’d wasted too much time already.

 

With those perfect fucking thighs parted, Pete started out with a single slick finger. He pushed past that impossibly tight ring of muscles and he could only imagine how Patrick would feel around his cock. Pulling him into that tight hot heat.

 

He swallowed thickly before he started to move that finger in and out, his eyes shifting upwards to watch the other. Patrick’s eyes were closed and his lips were parted and he was heaving tiny little pants. Pete knew it wasn’t enough though.

 

Carefully he added another finger before he started up the search for more, for that bundle of nerves that couldn’t be too far in. Patrick was already moaning but Pete wanted to hear him, to really him crying out, screaming, Pete’s name.

 

When he found it, he let himself enjoy the way Patrick’s eyes flew open and the strangled gasp that died somewhere on his lips. Afterwards Pete decided that the other was ready for a third finger. Oh yes, Patrick could take another finger.

 

“Fuck Pete please!” Patrick called out, arching off the mattress once again and twisting the sheets around his fingers in desperation. “Please more!” He begged. “Want you now, please, do anything for it!”

 

Almost, almost, so close. And truly, Pete wanted it just as badly, but it’s his responsibility, as the most sober, to make sure everything was done right. He wanted in that tight little ass just as badly. He wanted to give Patrick something he’d remember for the rest of his life. But if Pete was honest, he knows it was him who might never be the same.

 

Pete started to actually work his fingers apart, finally stretching Patrick to fit him. “You’re so good for me, Baby. Wish you could see yourself like this, you're like a porno, no fuck like sin. Yeah, Babe. You’re the picture of temptation right now, make a saint have convictions,” Pete rambled as he watched himself fuck Patrick with his fingers. “What are we gonna do with you?”

 

God, it was good. He could watch for hours, days even. He was in love with the sounds Patrick made. Like he was singing only to Pete, it was a song just for him and the lyrics had been replaced with sultry moans and whimpers. The sweetest sounds Pete had ever heard. He was starting to worry about how long he could actually last.

 

There was something else to strive for though, something he wanted so much more. Still, it was the best Pete had ever had, the most erotic, the most lustful, it was strange. He hadn’t even been inside the younger boy and already he couldn’t compare anyone to him.

 

“Pete, please! Fuck it’s enough, it’s enough I promise. Please I can take it,” Patrick whined, throwing his head further back in displeasure. Okay, Pete could kind of see how he was starting to tease. Patrick moved further down the bed and the other male wondered if it was really enough though. Fingers were different but he wasn’t about to argue.

 

Pete removed his fingers and crawled back up to Patrick, pressing their lips together once again. “You tell me if you want me to stop, it’s probably gonna hurt some but I’ll pull out if you need me to,” he mumbled against those delicious lips, promising Patrick that he’d be good, that he would do it right. “Anything for you, Trick,” and it wasn't just the lust or the bedroom talk that made Pete say those words. Anything for his Patrick, the stars, the moon, the Eiffel tower, the Statue of Liberty. Anything Patrick wanted, Pete would find a way to get it for him.

 

Thankfully though, for that night Patrick only wanted his dick and Goddamn if Pete wasn’t on board with that.

 

Patrick on the other hand only continued to make broken little sounds but he nodded back, letting Pete know he understood. Pete didn’t need anymore permission.

 

And then of course, like always, Pete remembered something else that was fairly crucial to the whole operation. He wasn’t sure if he had a condom or not. “Fuck, hang on a second.”

 

“What why? I’ve been hanging on,” Patrick said with a frown. “I’ve been so patient for you and everything,” he couldn’t understand why Pete still wasn’t inside of him. Hadn’t he been good enough for the older boy.

 

“I gotta find a condom,” Pete said with some regret. A lot of regret. What a time to be ill prepared. He’d already found his jeans on the floor and he was hoping that he'd shoved one in his wallet or something. He usually had one or two on him, there was a good chance he’d still find one. But it was the possibility that he might not find one that was devastating.

 

“A condom?” Patrick asked, sitting up slightly and giving Pete a confused look.

 

Pete returned that same confused expression right back. “Yeah, you know? A condom, a rubber, dick glove, whatever you wanna call it, I think I’ve got one here somewhere,” Pete mumbled, finally finishing out his wallet.

 

“Do you um...do you have to use that?” Patrick asked carefully. “I’m fine, no STDS or anything and um...w-well if you’re...you know-clean, we don’t really have to have one...right?” Patrick stuttered, his voice was just above a whisper. Pete knew he was clean and he knew Patrick had to be too. So, theoretically, no they didn’t have to use one.

 

“What about the mess?” Pete asked, tilting his head some. Patrick pulled his legs upwards towards his chest , looking painfully young and shy but still so fucking beautiful and doable. Pete had to fight the urge to not reach up and pull those legs apart once again.

 

“I kind of like the mess?” He replied, giving Pete a pleading yet embarrassed look. “I’m uh, I think I’d like the mess anyway...that is.”

 

And oh hell, Pete was going to have to investigate that further. “What are you saying Trick?” He asked lowly, shoving his wallet back into his jeans. “Tell me what you mean.”

 

Patrick flushed brightly and his eyes fell down to the mattress, not able to look Pete in the eyes. “I mean, I’ve never actually had sex with anyone. Not like this, or uh anyway really. But I’ve done other things with people, I’ve had people-not inside me but in my mouth, on my face. I really like it, it’s...I don’t know,” Patrick mumbled, trying and failing not to fumble over his words. “It’s just something I’m into.”

 

“Are you saying you’re a cum slut?” Pete asked, having to swallow thickly all over again. His tone wasn’t accusing or disgusted, it was more of a mixture between shocked, curious, and painfully turned on.

 

“I guess?” Patrick answered, still refusing to look at Pete, he was too afraid of his reaction. “I shouldn’t have said anything, you probably think I’m-”

 

Before Patrick could finish that sentence, Pete had his face held between his hands, forcing the other to look him. “Hey, no don’t be like that. Fuck Patrick. I think it’s hot. Like really fucking hot. You want me to cum inside you? You have no idea how that turns me on. You having a fucking thing for my cum….that’s fuck, yeah I want that,” Pete said, biting down roughly on his lip before pushing Patrick back down.

 

“It’s just like a um, I don’t know how to explain it. It feels good to be marked, to be claimed. I like feeling like I’m someone's,” Patrick said, seeming a little less intoxicated while he spoke. “Having someone's cum on me...or in me makes me feel like that, like I belong to somebody.”

 

Pete knew he wouldn’t have to try hard to start pulling that statement apart and picking out everything that was wrong with it. He could hear Patrick’s low self esteem shining though and he could hear the boys need to be loved and wanted, to have somebody take care of him. But right then wasn’t the right time. Pete didn’t like the idea of anyone else coming on or in or even near Patrick, but in the moment it was just him. He could push those thoughts aside for a while.

 

“I’ll make you mine,” Pete smirked. “Now relax, I want inside you,” Pete said, moving to spread Patrick out again, having absolutely no shame.

 

After he took another moment to rub some lotion on himself, he was ready. This time he held his cock, guiding it to Patrick’s entrance. He teased the other’s hole for moment before pushing the tip inside, breaching that tight wall of muscle.

 

Pete forced himself to still some, watching Patrick for any kind of sign of discomfort. He could tell it wasn’t exactly comfortable, but Patrick didn’t look like he was an overwhelming amount of pain. It could have been the vodka numbing Patrick just enough. Either way, when the boy nodded, Pete pushed the rest of the way in.

 

That was when Pete started having trouble expressing himself for number of reason.   
Patrick was so fucking tight and hot. Seriously, it had never been like that before. Pete had never felt that kind of pressure around him, squeezing him and pulling him in further.

 

And number two, the way Patrick looked. He was disheveled with his mouth open, eyes shut tight, strawberry hair everywhere, and fingers grasping the sheets. He was rolling his hips just enough to try and get a little friction from Pete’s muscled stomach, and those fucking sounds. ‘Yes, yes, yes’ and ‘Pete fuck me please’, God. Pete had never seen anyone look so good. Pete was right, Patrick looked like the temptation straight out of the Garden of Eden.

 

That was it, it was the best Pete had ever had. And he probably wasn’t going to last too long.

 

He started off with these slow thrust, carefully pushing in and pulling back out. But then Patrick wrapped his legs around Pete’s waist, pulling him in even deeper. “You fuck me so good, yes. I-didn’t-never knew it could be like this,” Patrick said, his eyes finally opening up to stare at Pete.

 

Pete could feel himself going hot all over, he knew he was sweating and that his bangs were probably sticking to his forehead. But he was so lost in the feeling of Patrick that he couldn’t care.

 

It was like sex on ecstasy, it was not ordinary sex. It was ‘the sex.’ The one from all the hottest pornos Pete had ever seen, all the R rated movies he’d ever watched, it was the perfect fantasy come to life. He’d slept with enough people to be experienced, to know what he was doing. Pete knew that sometimes sex was alright, usually never bad, sometimes if you were lucky it would be good. Great even. But sex with Patrick was so much more.

 

He shifted the other’s hips some and then used one hand to pin both Patrick’s wrist above his head. He knew he wouldn’t fight Pete on it. “You like that baby boy, you like me fucking you nice and slow?” Pete whispered against Patrick’s ear, wet and dirty. “You know how sweet you are under me, I love you like this,”

 

“Pete!” Patrick cried out, gasping and whimpering all over again. Pete decided it was a good time to press their lips together once again. He kept his thrust slow and purposeful for a bit, knowing that it wouldn’t last long if he didn’t.

 

But then Patrick was mumbling something against his lips and Pete had to stop moving all together before he come undone.

 

“C-could I try riding you?” Patrick asked, his eyes fluttering open again. “This is good...but I’ve wanted to, always thought about it,” Patrick gasped, biting down on his lips and moving his hips again, still seeking that friction.

 

Fuck, yeah okay.

 

“You ready for that, baby? Don’t wanna hurt you, we don’t have to do anything more than this,” Pete whispered, moving to suck at Patrick’s neck, nipping the skin there and hoping he could leave a bruise.

 

“Please, Pete? I wanna ride you, I wanna bounce on your cock,” Patrick, groaned. He didn't have time to react before Pete was pulling out and flipping them over. Who was he kidding? Who the hell could turn down that offer? Yes, he wanted Patrick Stump, just legal enough to ride him. And if it was going to be the last time they ever did that, well he wanted everything he could get out of it.

 

“Legs on both sides, hold my cock, guide it inside of you,” Pete instructed, his mouth too dry and his voice too low and raspy. “Can you do that?” He asked while propping himself up against the headboard.

 

“I think so,” Patrick mumbled while he started out. He straddled Pete’s hips and then grabbed the base of Pete’s cock like he’d been told, and slowly started to sink down onto him.

 

Pete could only grip tightly to Patrick’s hips as he slowly started to bottom on out his cock. Pete wanted to be more concerned. It was Patrick’s first time after all, it should be all soft and slow, sweet and gentle with loving words.

 

“Fuck yeah baby, take my cock, you take it so good for me. Tight little cum slut, you’re fucking mine, nobody else. I’m the only one who’s gonna fill that tight little hole up, nobody else.” My God, if those weren’t the furthest from sweet and loving words, Pete wouldn’t know what was.

 

It wasn’t the way Patrick’s first time should have been, but Pete couldn’t help himself. Patrick had just been unlucky enough to end up with Pete. Pete-dirty-talking-fast-and-rough-show-no-mercy-Wentz 

 

His hands moved to grip Patrick’s full round ass, squeezing slightly. Pete couldn’t describe how much he loved Patrick’s ass. Plump, thick, oh so grabable. Too bad Patrick never wore jeans tight enough to really show it off properly. Patrick Stump, always leaving a bit to the imagination. Pete decided he’d have to talk to Patrick about it later to see if that could be changed.

 

And just like Patrick said, he really was bouncing on Pete’s dick. From Pete’s angle he had an amazing view. Patrick’s cream colored thighs were around him, like honey thick and sweet. His sides were Pete’s for the taking. The older boy could run his hands up and down, loving the young fleshy feeling of puppy chub that clung just enough so that Pete could have something to grab onto.

 

Then the boy’s own dick, red, hard and looking fairly neglected. Pete didn’t think, he just touched. He stroked Patrick in time with their own movements.

 

Pete would thrust up into him, Patrick would bounce up and down, Pete would pump Patrick. It was an array of movement and Pete was getting so close it was starting to become painful trying to hold off. But in the best possible way.

 

Patrick was clenching down on him, his eyes lidded and staring down at Pete. He would gasp and moan, letting the sounds die off on his lips. Pete was grunting and swearing and very nearly growling.

 

It was good, so fucking perfect. Pete didn’t know how many times he could use that word to describe the sex he was having. But that was one of the few ways he knew how to compare it. He imagined it was like what heroin felt like. Or a little like a pill, like any kind of dopamine endorphin releasing drug felt like.

 

When the older boy shifted, just enough, Patrick cried out loudly. It wasn’t a tiny moan or a soft whimper, but it was an honest to God cry of Pete’s name. “Pete Yes, God please yes, please!”

 

And while Pete loved Patrick riding him, he was building. The pressure was building inside of him and it’s all hot and hazy. A white hot heat deep in his belly and he was so close but he wanted Patrick back under him. He wanted to hover over him and push his legs apart and dominate him.

 

“Baby, you beg so pretty for me. I want you on your back again,” Pete growled out, his fingers digging back into Patrick’s hips. “I wanna cum inside you while you’re all spread out for me,” Pete hissed.

 

Thankfully Patrick was completely willing to comply. For a brief moment he considered Patrick on his knees with his ass in the air, but no, Pete wanted to see him when he finished.

 

When Patrick had carefully climbed off of Pete, Pete was pushing him back down and dragging him closer by his hips. “God, I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to be the first. You gonna let me be the only, Trick? Tell me you’re mine, tell me you're just mine,” Pete growled, lining himself up and pushing into Patrick without much caution. “Fuck, such a cum whore but you’re my cum whore huh? You belong to me don’t you baby?” Pete said as he thrusted roughly into the younger boy.

 

This time he was hitting that spot over and over again, holding Patrick down and growling those filthy words into his ear. The sounds Patrick had been making were so sinful and fulfilling, but it was a wonder nobody had come up the stairs yet to see what the loud cries and moans were about.

 

If Pete was lucky it was because of how loud the music was, hopefully it had downed out Patrick’s sounds. Still, he didn’t think he’d be too upset with somebody knowing he was fucking Patrick. Pete liked the idea of everyone knowing.

 

“Pete fuck I’m yours, please I’m all yours, belong to you. Please cum in me, I want you to fill me up, want you so far inside me,” Patrick cried, trying desperately to arch further up into Pete. “I’m so close Pete, fuck, I can’t-I can’t last!” Patrick said, his erection rubbing up against Pete’s stomach. Pete managed to slip a hand between them just long enough to brush his thumb over the head of Patrick’s cock and giving it a couple pumps.

 

And then Patrick was finishing, not being able to last another second. He all but screamed Pete’s name, his hot release spurting against Pete’s stomach, his hand, and Patrick’s chest, a sticky mess between them.

 

And it was enough to drag Pete right over the edge with him. “Yeah baby, take my cum, all of it. Gonna make you mine, mark you up, fuck you’re mine,” Pete said, finally stiffening and stilling, letting that pressure come to a climax. Pete felt his vision start to blur some and he felt nearly lightheaded when he finally came. He spilled into Patrick, forgetting everything including his name. All he knew was ‘Patrick Patrick patrick,’ and that was the extent of Pete’s whole word. He gave a few more weak thrust, letting the boy milk him for all he was worth, before collapsing.

 

He could hear Patrick ‘ooffing’ softly under him but Pete wasn’t ready to pull out. He wasn’t ready to move at all. Instead he shifted just enough so that all his weight wasn’t on Patrick but he kept his softening cock inside the boy.

 

Pete was perfectly content to die like that. Inside of Patrick, sweaty, sticky, and completely spent. Patrick squirmed some, whimpering again but Pete wrapped his arms around him and shushed him. “You’re fine,” Pete cooed and pressed a kiss to Patrick’s damp hair.

 

But actually Pete was kind of crushing him. “Pete...please?” Patrick mumbled softly, squirming in the older male's arms. “I have to breath.”

 

Pete doesn’t react for a long couple of seconds before he eventually mumbled, “Are you sure?”

 

“Yes, I’m positive,” Patrick rasped out and Pete knew he did have to move and sadly pull out.

 

“We’re cuddling afterwards,” he sighed before slowly pulling out, not stopping himself from running a finger along Patrick’s swollen rim as he did so. Already he could feel his own cum start to leak out. “Just let me…” He mumbled, his words trailed off and he scooted down the bed some to press that finger further inside of Patrick, pushing his cum in further.

 

Patrick gasped, practically shaking. “Pete I-I can’t, you said we’d cuddle!” Patrick cried out, unsure if he wanted more or less. “Please!” He said again, throwing his head to the side and squeezing his eyes shut as Pete continued to finger him for a moment. Patrick was quickly learning how far ‘please’ could get him with Pete.

 

“Okay, okay baby. We’ll cuddle now,” Pete said, seeming to agree as he slipped his finger out.

 

Patrick sighed in relief. He didn’t think he’d be able to take anymore. Then Pete was back beside him, his arms going around the other once again, pulling him in close and nuzzling at his face. Patrick giggled softly but he let himself sink further into Pete. Everything felt like jelly. He just wanted to sleep and he wanted Pete to keep holding him like that.

 

It wasn’t five minutes later that they were both asleep, Patrick with his head on Pete’s chest, Pete had tangled their legs together. He didn't know what tomorrow would bring but in the meantime, he just wanted Patrick close.

 

***

 

The first thing Pete realized when he woke up was that he’d slept through the night. He’d slept nearly a whole night, or he’d gotten close. Closer than he’d ever gotten before. The second thing he realized was how warm he was and that he’d been wrapped around something, no, someone. When he forced his eyes open, it all came flooding back to him.

 

Patrick. That’s right, how could Pete forget. He'd had the most incredible mind blowing sex only hours ago.

 

He was still fast asleep and Pete was so very careful when he pulled him closer. Soft little breaths and a gentle sigh let him know that he’d done a good job of not waking Patrick up. He was all pliable and curled further against Pete easily.

 

Pete decided that he loved Patrick like that, he kind of wanted to stay just like that forever. Patrick’s face tucked into the crook of his neck, his arms around Pete’s chest. Pete with a leg thrown over Patrick’s and his own arm wrapped securely around the younger one’s waist as he inhaled the scent of his shampoo.

 

‘I could die like this’ Pete thought to himself and he knew that same thought was familiar. Rather it was sex or half asleep and tangled together, there was something about Patrick that made Pete feel content. Content to die but willing to live.

 

But then a sharp series of knocks came and Pete had to stop himself from yelling at whoever ruined his moment. Patrick jumped and then Pete held tighter. “Pete, Rick, we gotta go! Andy wants to get breakfast before everywhere start serving lunch. Better hurry if you wanna come, if not you’ll be stuck cleaning this place up.”

 

Pete didn't wanna get up, he didn’t wanna go get breakfast with Joe and Andy, as much as he loved them. But he also didn’t wanna be stuck cleaning up the aftermath of a house party. His morals said ‘clean up crew.’ But everything else said ‘breakfast.’ And Pete wasn’t all into his morals anyway. Obviously.

 

“Umm…” Patrick mumbled, blinking at Pete. He still had that sleepy look about him but he also looked a bit nervous, unsure. “Last night uh...was that um, okay or d-does that need to be, should we not have?” Patrick asked stumbling over his words.

 

He’d pulled away and Pete sort of hated that. “Chill, it’s okay. This doesn’t have to be a big deal, we don’t have to make it one,” Pete said softly. He thought those were the the right words, the ones that should clear the air. But Patrick continued to stare, looking just as uncertain as before.

 

“Trick, Patrick. It’s fine. I promise, it’s okay. This doesn’t...I mean it doesn’t have to ruin anything, it doesn’t mean anything. Sometimes friends sleep together, you don't have to freak out. It’s totally fine, not a big deal. So, we’re cool right?” Pet asked, ignoring how flawed and ridiculous his logic sounded even to him. ‘Sometimes friends sleep together,’ what the hell? No they fucking didn’t!

 

“Okay, yeah okay we’re cool,” Patrick said quietly, offering Pete the smallest of smiles. If Pete sounded insane, well Patrick was doing a good job of ignoring it. Maybe he wanted things to be okay and listening to Pete Wentz was his best option.

 

“Good, you still my lunch box?” Pete asked hopefully, fighting every bit of himself that wanted Patrick back against him. Patrick was still all his.

 

“Always,” Patrick replied, visibly starting to relax again. His tone let Pete know that he meant it.

 

“Good, now we better get going or we’re gonna get stuck cleaning this shit up,” Pete said. He felt a wave of sympathy for whoever got stuck doing the spare bedroom’s sheets.

 

Patrick nodded but he let Pete get up first, realizing that they were both still painfully naked. Pete didn’t seem to have any problem with Patrick seeing his body though. Pete wandered around the room, picking up various pieces of clothing, naked and on show.

 

When Pete noticed that Patrick didn’t seem to be getting dressed, he stopped, boxers low on his hips and his jeans still unbuttoned and he gave the other a questioning look.

 

Patrick pulled the blanket up further around him and he could feel his face heating up. “Don’t watch,” Patrick huffed, turning his nose up at Pete.

 

“But I wanna watch?” Pete countered, a confused look on his face. “Dude I’ve already seen everything there is to see, don’t be shy,” he laughed before shaking his head.

 

Patrick only huffed harder and he narrowed his eyes at Pete. “Find my clothes, Pete,” he said and crossed his arms over his chest.

 

“Okay, okay. We’ll do it your way,” Pete sighed in defeat. He gathered up everything he could find of Patrick’s, minus the socks, and sat them neatly next to Patrick. Dude your socks are long gone, I got your hat though,” Pete smiled.

 

“What do you mean my socks are gone, they can’t be far,” Patrick frowned. “Can’t you find them?” Patrick asked, giving Pete a look. They didn’t really have time to be looking for socks. They could be under the bed, under other laundry, Pete had no clue and no time to go on a hunt.

 

“Just wear mine, babe,” Pete teased, wondering if he was exhibiting the right behavior for an event such as that. Shouldn’t things be more awkward? Shouldn’t Patrick be shutting him out or something?

 

Instead the boy only rolled his eyes in slight exasperation. “Alright fine, but turn around. No peeking,” Patrick mumbled before letting the sheet go and actually going about getting dressed.

 

And of course Pete may or may not have peaked a couple times.

 

***

 

That was where the problem started, it was only the tip of the iceberg. Because even though Pete had said it wouldn’t change their dynamics, they would still be Pete and Patrick, Patrick and Pete, things did start to change. Pete’s thoughts included.

 

They were sitting on Andy’s sofa talking about the upcoming tour when Pete looked over at the younger boy. He still looked a lot like that sixteen year old Pete had met only a few years ago. His hair was a little longer and his face just a bit more angled. He still looked sweet and innocent.

 

But when Pete looked at him he wasn’t just filled with excitement. Something else flooded him, something more than that happy/excited/relieved feeling he got when Patrick was around. Of course he still felt that happy/excited/relieved emotion but something was new.

 

‘I wanna hold you and kiss you and never let you go.’ Is Pete’s first though. ‘Oh fuck, what?’ Is his second thought. What did that mean? He knew he loved Patrick but how thin was the love and in love line? Pete wasn’t sure but he was afraid to find out.

 

***

  
Strangely the thoughts didn’t subside and Pete found himself wanting to be around Patrick at all times, which isn’t really practical. Everyone was attempting to get in those last peaceful moments before going back on tour. The only bonus was that it would be in an actual bus that time.

 

Pete knew he had to do something, he couldn’t go four months on a bus with Patrick when he had those constant thoughts. Those, ‘I wanna be with you always, I want you right next to me, you’re mine’ thoughts.

 

Pete decided that these thoughts, these feelings were something that needed to be curbed, controlled even. He couldn’t let them continue and still have a good relationship with Patrick, an honest relationship. Even if it was simply a best friend kind of relationship. He did the only thing he could think of. He had sex.

 

He was sure that it would fix everything. He just needed to get his thoughts away from Patrick for a while. Pete needed to spend time with somebody else, he needed to be intimate with somebody else. That would help him realize that it was just sex he liked, nothing more nothing less.

 

He’d went out to one of his favorite clubs, knowing exactly what he wanted and a good idea on how to obtain it.

 

She was a gorgeous girl and she let Pete get her a couple of fruity drinks. She laughed at his jokes, giggling and twirling her hair. She would do just fine. The thing was, was that she didn’t need to be perfect. Pete wasn’t going to fall in love with her, she wasn’t the girl of his dreams. Pretty but pretty was still just….pretty. He could tell that her head was mainly empty. That or it wasn’t filled with all things he liked. Not like Patrick’s was.

 

It was wrong but she meant very little to him from the start. She was just his quick one night stand. He got her tipsy and watched as she went from flirty to provocative. Getting her home was even easier.

 

“I like your apartment,” She said as Pete shut the door behind them.

 

“Thanks, took a lot of work you know,” he laughed jokingly. The place was a mess, he hadn’t bothered to clean up much. “Bedroom is a lot better though,” he hinted lowly.

 

***

 

The next thing Pete knew is that she’s naked, so is he. She’s one top of him and her hair was falling absolutely everywhere. Her tits, perky and big, were in his face and she was moaning. Her lips were parted and her eyes were lidded as she rode him, sinking down onto him and pulling off slowly.

 

For the first time in Pete’s life, sex wasn’t that great. Don’t get him wrong, it was alright, it was good enough to keep him hard, but it wasn’t...it wasn't like sex with Patrick and he was struggling to get into it.

 

She was riding his cock, her nails lightly running down his chest, her tits bouncing up and down. She was hot, Pete knew she was hot. But it just wasn’t enough this time. He kept thinking of Patrick, thinking of the way Patrick rode him. How his hole was tighter and hotter. His fuller pink lips and his better hips. His eyes were bluer and everything about him was better...was more than she could ever be. She was nothing compared to him and suddenly Pete was over it. She didn’t belong to him like Patrick did. He was already going soft.

 

“Hey,” Pete mumbled, getting her attention for second. “Get off.”

 

“What’s that baby?” She asked around a moan, slowing just slightly. They had been at it for a moment and Pete still wasn’t even close.

 

“I said get off,” Pete said a little louder, already moving to push her off of him.

 

She gasped, giving Pete a confused look. “Did you wanna switch positions?” She asked wearily.

 

“No, sorry I’m just not into it anymore,” he said. Instantly her confused expression turned into a look of disgust. She quickly reached for her shirt and covered up.

 

“Fuck you!” She spat, pulling her clothes on. Pete wanted to tell her that he had and it hadn’t worked out well at all. He knew better though.

 

“You can see yourself out right?” He mumbled and she let out a frustrated yell. Pete watched as she stomped out, not saying another word.

 

She didn’t understand, she thought she was frustrated, angry, and feeling rejected. She had no clue how Pete felt. He couldn’t get off. He was fucking a hot girl and he couldn’t get off. So much so that he wanted her to leave.

 

Pete stared up at the ceiling wondering where it had gone wrong. Pete was upset but not at her, it couldn’t have been her fault. She just wasn’t right, that was all.

 

***

  
Pete decided to brush the incident off, it wasn’t a big deal. Instead he focused on getting ready for tour, spending time with Patrick, and enjoying as many hot showers as he could before it became a rarity

.

It was almost a week before the tour and despite their busy schedules, Pete went back to the club. It was loud, stuffy and crowded. But he had to try again. He hated to admit it, but he’d rather be at home. Maybe with the younger boy. He wanted to be curled up with Patrick watching a movie.

 

But he hadn’t gotten off since that night with Patrick nearly two weeks ago. Pete was suffering! He was desperate and finding another girl wouldn’t be hard. Anything to take care of those specific needs.

 

It was the same bit. Flirt some, buy her a drink, flirt some more, ask her back to his apartment. That time though Pete picked a different type of girl. Her hair was blond and her eyes were brighter, still blue but prettier. And she had a flatter chest. She was of course still attractive and she gushed over him when Pete told her that his band was on the radio. He knew that might have played a part in getting her home.

 

On the car ride home she kept touching him and trying to suck at his neck. Pete wanted it to be hot but he was driving and already she was on his nerves. He was half tempted to push her away and insist that she sit still until they were at his place. Instead he just smiled and tried to pay attention to the road.

 

He found himself in the same situation. She was naked under him, whining and moaning his name while she arched her back. Pete just barely managed to keep himself hard. Some kind of bad feeling was starting to settle inside of him. She wasn’t who he wanted and for some reason it all felt wrong. He could close his eyes and he see Patrick. But when he opened them again instead of the young beautiful singer, it was still the same nameless girl. He felt shameful, dirty. Something sex had never made him feel before.

 

Instantly he pulled out and she looked back at him with the same confused expression the first girl gave him. “Get out,” Pete mumbled rolling the condom off and tossing it to the floor before he started to look for his underwear.

 

“Excuse me?!” She asked, her eyes narrowing as she grabbed for her own clothes.

 

“I don’t want you anymore,” Pete spat, this time not just angry at himself but at her too.

 

“What are you gay or something?!” She shouted while she pulled her clothes on.

 

Pete scoffed and shook his head. “Fuck, I might be!” He shouted back. Her eyes widened before she grabbed her purse and stormed out. Pete didn’t relax until he heard the door slam shut.

 

He ran a hand over his face and sighed. He couldn’t keep doing this.

 

With the next girl, unfortunately he hadn’t given up yet, it came a little easier. She had reddish hair and blue eyes, little tit's too. But her figure was fuller that go around. He even remembered her name for once. Heather. It was nice enough, not that he truly cared. She was just means to an end and Pete knew he was a fucking asshole. He knew that!

 

He kind of hated himself for it but he was starting to get scared. He’d never able to not fuck right, not to cum or to finish the job. He’d never not wanted to before. It was goddamn scary.

 

He was fucking and it was going well, not perfect, he was still having thoughts of Patrick but it could be worse. Heather is moaning just like the last girls and Pete was tired of fighting. He let himself pretend that was actually Patrick. But the question he asked her brought everything to a halt.

 

“Hey, can I come in you?” He suddenly asked. He was wearing a condom but he was dying to take it off. She was on top and staring down at him. Before Pete could say anything else she was climbing off, grabbing her clothes and hurrying to throw them on. She stopped just long enough to give Pete a disturbed look before rushing away without saying another word. Pete wasn’t even sure if she finished getting dressed but she slammed the door anyway. Pete couldn’t do anything but stare at the walls. Why did it keep happening?

 

***

 

It was three days before tour started and Pete was on edge. He needed to get off. He needed it. It was like his skin was constantly on fire and being close to Patrick only fueled it.

 

Porn. Pete decided it was a good option. The best option he had at the moment. He just needed some porn in his life. So he held himself up in his bedroom with the doors locked and his laptop charged. He checked his usual go to for anything new. ‘Threesome with my wife,’ and ‘hot teen on spring break,’ even ‘sexy blond takes cock’ nothing really called to him.

 

But he stroked his cock, going through the videos and the motions. He was tying hard to just get there. Nothing was working though, nothing was pushing him over the edge. He was close but he ‘just couldn’t get there’ The moans were fake, the women all had fake tits, the dudes were going off of a script. If Pete was frustrated before, he was exasperated afterwards.

 

No amount of deep throating or threesomes could do it for Pete. He growled in anger and slammed his laptop closed. He thought his dick might start chafing if he didn’t stop or at least finish. His dick might actually fall off based on how hard he’d been working himself, was that a possibility?

 

With a moment of hesitation Pete grabbed his phone off the nightstand and started to go through his photos. Admittedly most were of Patrick. He stared at his favorite ones, stroking himself and biting roughly on his bottom lip.

 

He finally settled on one he’d gotten of Patrick while he slept. It was meant to be a funny picture, something candid to remember. He’d been stretched out in the back of the van and his shirt was riding up just enough to see a strip of skin. The younger boy’s mouth had been open and he looked blissful.

 

Pete imagined tasting that skin and pushing those legs apart. He imagined Patrick naked and begging for Pete. He imagined the other with his ass up in the air while Pete fucked into him, fingers leaving bruised prints into pale skin. He imagined Patrick begging for his cum.

 

Without warning Pete felt himself spill into his hand. He squeezed his eyes closed and arched up into his palm as he was hit with one of the strongest orgasms he’d ever experienced.

 

It felt like minutes later before Pete finally came down from that high and was able to think right again. “Fuck,” he whispered to himself, not bothering to open his eyes or clean himself. Everything was completely fucked up.

 

****

 

The bus was actually nice, it was small but it could accommodate them comfortably and that was sort of the main goal.

 

“I call bottom!” Joe yelled, throwing himself into the nearest bottom bunk, not wanting to have to the be the one climbing to the top every night.

 

“Bottom!” Pete called out next while Patrick pouted at him. Enough to make Pete’s heart melt.

 

“Pete no, I don’t wanna climb up every time I go to bed, let me take bottom,” Patrick said, looking hopeful. It wouldn’t be an issue if there was more than four bunk spaces. “Come on, I’m short.”

 

“You already are a bottom,” Pete teased which only earned him a punch in the arm from the unhappy singer. “We’ll share!” Pete smirked playfully, pretending to have came up with the perfect solution.

 

“What like switching on and off?” Patrick asked in confusion.

 

Pete snorted before shaking his head. “No, we’ll just sleep together.”

 

“Pete give me the bottom bunk!” Patrick huffed while his face heated up.

 

“Okay Pumpkin, just cause I know you have little legs,” Pete said, laughing again.

 

Patrick grumbled but he looked relieved to be able to sit his bags on the bottom bunk while Pete threw his things onto the top.

 

“It just means I can watch you sleep,” Pete grinned.

 

“You’re so strange,” Patrick said, rolling his eyes.

 

Eventually when everyone had found their space, they started to settle down. It was a new experience having a bus and all. It meant things, wonderful things. They had officially gained enough status, and money, to have a tour bus. It meant they were going places and that fact buzzed under everyone’s skin.

 

The close prolixity started to make Pete worry though. It was easier when he wasn’t sleeping right above Patrick. When he wasn’t eating breakfast with Patrick every morning, when they weren’t sharing very small living spaces.

 

***

  
The first couple of shows went alright, the crowds were so much bigger though. It was almost overwhelming. The schedule was bigger, so we're the interviews and photo shoots. Suddenly everything was happening very quickly for the band.

 

The only solitude Pete could find was with Patrick. He was the only thing that seemed to be able to ground Pete on his worst days.

 

It was only two weeks into the tour when Pete finds himself sleepless once again. He couldn’t stop himself from hopping down from the top bunk and pulling Patrick’s curtain aside.

 

“Pete I know you were just kidding when you said you wanted to share a bunk,” Patrick mumbled, still half asleep with his eyes shut.

 

Joe and Andy were passed out and Pete had tried to stay quiet for the most part. It wasn’t easy though. He felt like there was so much unwanted energy inside of him. He didn’t say anything, instead he just stared at Patrick with pleading in his eyes.

 

After a couple of seconds of deliberation, the younger of the two sighed and shuffled over. “Alright, but you have to actually try to sleep,” Patrick said gently.

 

Pete climbed in and instantly wrapped himself around the strawberry blond. It wasn’t new really, they had cuddled before. All the time if Pete was honest. But he was still thinking too heavily.

 

Patrick squirmed and tossed for a bit, struggling to get comfortable in the small space. It finally ended with his back flush against Pete’s chest, the older male's arms wrapped tight around him while he pressed his face into the back of Patrick’s neck.

 

It had been innocent enough to start out with. Pete couldn’t sleep, Patrick had offered up his comfort and body heat. But like always, Pete had to go and make things awkward again. Because while he and Patrick were spooning, Pete continued to think, to imagine even. He thought about how he’d rather have Patrick naked. He wanted to see those thighs again. He wanted to mark them up.

 

He wanted to able to grip Patrick’s ass and fondle him, grind his cock against his cheeks, fuck Pete wanted to spread him open and eat him out. Pete wanted to fuck him until they both forgot their names and he wanted to kiss him afterwards. He wanted hold him and promise to give him everything.

 

“Pete...are you hard?” Patrick asked, sounding much more awake suddenly.

 

Sure enough he’d gotten a hard on with all the thoughts and imagery that had been coming from his head. And his dick was apparently poking Patrick in the ass.

 

Pete swallowed down a groan and cleared his throat. “Um, no,” Pete mumbled back.

 

“Your dick is like...right there,” Patrick whispered and Pete could tell his face was probably as red as ever.

 

“No that’s a remote,” Pete said, not caring how stupid he sounded.

 

“A remote? A remote to what?” Patrick whispered back.

 

“Shhh, go to sleep. Ignore my remote,” Pete said, knowing that Patrick would, had before.

 

Ano like that they go silent again. Pete knew that Patrick knew, they both knew it wasn’t anything but Pete’s dick.

 

Pete fell asleep with his erection digging into Patrick’s ass but the younger male never said anything else about it.

 

***

  
It was officially a month into the tour and the novelty had worn off. Sure they weren’t to the point of exhausted, sleep deprived, and no clean clothes. But they were getting closer.

 

Pete still got off to pictures of Patrick, climbed into his bunk and invaded his personal space, but he couldn’t live like that forever. Something had to give.

 

They had their first hotel hotel night since the beginning of the tour and everyone was elated to have their own rooms to themselves.

 

Well, all except for Pete. He’d been calling Patrick’s phone for the last twenty minutes and he still hadn’t answered. Surely he couldn’t have gone to bed that quickly. Right before he got up to bang down the door to Patrick’s room, Pete made one last phone call. This time to Joe. .

 

“Hello?” Joe answered, his voice slow and light. Pete didn’t even have to ask to know what he’d been up to.

 

“Dude, Patrick’s not answering my phone,” Pete said starting to wonder if he’d done something to piss the other off or if something was wrong.

 

“Relax, he’s probably not answering cause he’s with some dude,” Joe mumbled and Pete could hear the flick of a lighter.

 

“What do you mean he’s with some dude?” Pete asked. “What dude?!”

 

“Yeah, I don’t remember his name. Maybe Jeff or Jayson. I don’t know, something with a J,” Joe mumbled.

 

“Who the fuck is Jeff?!” Pete yelled into the phone. Something boiling down up inside of him. No, Patrick wouldn’t do that, Patrick was his.

 

“Dude I don’t know! Some guy Patrick met,” Joe huffed. “Last time I seen them, they were in the lobby. Patrick introduced me to him, said they were going back to his room, then he told me goodnight and that he’d see me in the morning,” Joe replied, his voice going even more distant than before.

 

“What?! He doesn’t know a Jeff or a Jayson, you just let him leave to his room with some groupie?!” Pete yelled.

 

“Pete, I’m gonna have to let you go because you’re seriously killing my high. I’m sure Patrick is fine,” Joe said before hanging up.

 

“Joe wait no!” Pete yelled but it was too late.

 

“What the fuck?!” Pete yelled to himself before he scrambled up to get his shoes on and to locate his keycard. He couldn’t let Patrick fuck some guy or let this stranger strangle him to death or something else equally horrifying.

 

He darted out the door, barely remembering to shut it behind him. Pete ran down the hotel hall until he reached Patrick’s room. Instantly he started to bang his fist against the door.

 

“Patrick!” Pete yelled. “Patrick Stump, open the door!” Pete yelled again and continued his frantic banging. “If you don’t open the door in the next ten seconds I’m going to assume you’ve been murdered and I’m going to call the police!”

 

Patrick must haven taken the threat seriously, realizing that Pete would actually do it. Because about five seconds later the door was being opened.

 

“Pete what are you doing?” He asked. His eyes were red and puffy, his usually pale face was blotchy, like maybe he’d been crying. Pete swore he’d kill Jeff if he’d hurt him.

 

Pete pushed Patrick aside and stepped into the room, looking around for this stranger. “Patrick, you don’t know this guy or what he’s about. It’s not safe, he could be crazy, he could try to kill you in your sleep,” Pete mumbled looking further. The room seemed empty though and the bed was still made, Pete couldn’t find any evidence that someone else had even been there.

 

“Pete, what are you talking about?” Patrick asked, giving him a look.

 

“Jeff, the guy you brought back here,” Pete answered in return.

 

“Jeff?” Patrick asked, his confused look only worsening. “You mean Dave?”

 

“Who the hell is Dave?!” Pete asked. “Are there two guys here?!” Pete cried out, dropping down to the floor to look under the bed.

 

“No, no, there aren’t two guys here, there isn’t even one. He...I had him leave,” Patrick mumbled.

 

Pete hauled himself off the floor, a worried look on his face. “What happened, what did he do? I’ll kick his ass if I need to.”

 

“It was just me, okay...I didn’t...I wasn’t,” Patrick trailed off, not sure how to find his words.

 

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s alright,” Pete said gently. He took a seat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to him. He could clearly see Patrick’s distress. Patrick was hesitant but he slowly settled down next to Pete. “You can tell me what happened. I’m not gonna be judgemental or anything,” Pete insisted. “As long as he didn’t hurt you, he didn’t right?”

 

“No,” Patrick mumbled, shaking his head. “It just didn’t feel right, you know? Are you ever with somebody and you know you should be into them but you just aren’t. Like things didn't click and it’s just not there?” Patrick asked quietly.

 

“You have no idea,” Pete said, laughing bitterly. “But don’t worry about it okay? You’ll find that person. Stars will line up or whatever and everything will fall into place.”

 

Patrick could only stare sadly at the carpeted floor. “It’s not that easy,” he sighed.

 

Pete furrowed his brow before reaching out to grab Patrick’s hand. “What do you mean? How so?” He asked.

 

Patrick was quick to pull his hand away. “Pete I can’t!” Patrick insisted. “Look you wouldn’t understand and if you did you’d just laugh at me anyway, you wouldn’t feel the same. You’d just patronize me and then everything would be weird and ruined.” Patrick said, making a move to stand up.

 

Pete was quick to stop him though and he grabbed onto Patrick’s wrist carefully before pulling him back down. “Patrick I would never do any of those things, you know I wouldn’t. You’re my best friend. You mean more to me than anyone, nothing you say or confess or whatever, is going to make me feel any different about you and I’d never treat you differently or cruelly because of something,” Pete whispered.

 

“It’s so hard,” Patrick said, sniffling softly. “I didn’t want you to find out like this,” he admitted. “I just...do you remember that night we...you know?” Patrick asked and Pete could only nod back in return, scared of where this might be headed. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it...about you. And every time I try to be with someone...not like sex, it's still been just you...but even having coffee with them, it feels so wrong cause they aren't the person I wanna be with,” Patrick said, needing to take pauses every so often to get it all out. “I still feel like yours.”

 

“Patrick…” Pete whispered even more softly. “I don’t think I understand what you’re saying.”

 

“Fuck, I like you, more than I like anyone else. Like...damn it,” Patrick swore again before rubbing a hand over his face.I think I might actually be in love with you.”

 

Oh.

 

There it was, that moment of clarity. Pete could feel everything in his own world fall into place, his own stars were aligning with the planets and he finally felt right for once.

 

“That’s crazy, because I haven’t been able to have sex with anyone since that night. You ruined sex with everyone!” Pete said excitedly, his smile stretching from ear to ear. But why was Patrick looking so horrified?

 

“What, was it that bad?!” Patrick cried out, jumping off the bed. “Oh God I’m mortified, this is what I thought would happen, I knew this would happen! It was so bad, you're so disgusted that-that!” Patrick could hardly get the rest of his sentence out since his breathing had become so frantic.

 

Fuck. Pete had said it wrong, it sounded it right in his head and he knew what he meant by it but to Patrick it had sounded horrible. Pete jumped up and quickly pulled the other into his arms, holding him at length.

 

“Patrick no that’s not what I meant!” Pete said, trying to be heard of Patrick’s rambling. “I meant that I’ve tried to have sex with people and I couldn’t get off!” That seemed to do the trick, Patrick had finally stopped bordering on the edge of hyperventilation. “Nobody felt right, nobody even came close to being as good as you.”

 

“What do you mean you couldn’t get off?” He asked, his voice shaky.

 

“I kept thinking of you, I couldn't even finish to porn, I’ve been looking at pictures of you and jacking off to them,” Pete confessed, his own face heating up. “Then I started to think about other things, about how I kind of just wanted to be with you. I wanted to hold you and take you to dinner and I wanted to kiss you and promise you the world and then actually give it to you,” Pete explained. “I think I’m in love with you too. I think I have been, it just took a bit more to realize it. And that morning, you know when I said it didn’t mean anything? It meant everything.”

 

“I-it...it wasn’t bad sex?” Patrick asked, his eyes wide and nervous.

 

“I swear it was the best sex I’d ever had. I mean it, it was the best and I would very much like to do it again, but this time, if you’d let me, I’d like take you on a date first,” Pete said softly with a smile.

 

Patrick slowly returned that smile, all the fear and worry gone from his face. “I’d like that too, I’d really like that,” he replied. “I’m still yours Pete, always will be.”

 

“Good, cause now I’m all yours too. So it’s a date. I know we’ve done this all backwards, have sex, fall in love, go on a date, but I feel like it’s us, you know?” Pete laughed, finally pulling Patrick close.

 

“Me too, it’s us,” Patrick whispered, wrapping his arms around the other in return and laughing quietly.

 

“We’re goals baby,” Pete laughed back before moving in to press his lips against Patrick’s. Yeah, they were goals.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please always remember that sex without consent is rape. If you're too drunk to consent it's rape, if you realize in the morning or anytime afterwards that you were too drunk to consent, it's still rape. You have the right to say no at any point and the right to leave any situation you're uncomfortable with. This is just for entertainment purposes, we know it's not how things should work. Even if sex without consent isn't a major part of this story, it still felt important to add. I hope you enjoyed it and hopefully there aren't too many mistakes!


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